“I am in a state of discombobulation as I find myself eye-to-eye with a pain-stricken Virgin Mary, six daggers protruding from her chest. To my right is a statue of a man about to lose his leg to what looks like a rabid dog…”
The last time I strolled into the Lanesborough hotel, I was early; this time I…
The English coast might not be the ideal destination for a weekend in November but it does have the odd draw, particularly if you’re inclined to step back into another age. Alex Larman goes Edwardian in Eastbourne…
“I’m standing amid a polyglot chorus of holiday-makers and day-trippers on top of the Acropolis, Instagramming a cityscape of northern Athens and sharing it on Facebook…” In the cradle of civilisation, Mark O’Brien senses something new emerging…
“I’m awestruck as his rippling muscles gleam under the intense heat of the Cumbrian sun; an intoxicating mix of earth, sweat and leather floods my senses.” Jessica Baldwin is swept off her feet by a tall, dark, dashing fellow. Move over Mr D’Arcy…
“Located in Cuckfield, considered one of the prettiest Tudor villages in England, Ockenden is an Elizabethan manor dating from 1520, the beamed interior of which resonates with creaking floorboards and character…”
‘Even “the best laid plans…,” remarked Robert Burns, and as a fellow Scot raised on a climate of snow in June, he should know…’ Danielle flees the weather and discovers a timeless hideaway on the Italian Riviera…
“It’s 295 miles to Truro. We’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of Twiglets; it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses…” Gabrielle discovers the child-like delights of Cornwall’s Roseland Peninsula…
Larry returns to Zurich and experiences a weekend of opulence, elegance, unparalleled finery…and a delicious…
I don’t know if there is a Spanish version of that well-worn phrase La France…
“Stay away from the mushrooms with gills or skirts on their stems.” Such words to the wise sound like they belong in the ominous section of a fairytale, just before the wolf or Mad Hatter makes his appearance…
“The old bookworm has begun to twitch. It is, perhaps, the gaggle of youths playing songs rich in reference to knife crime that have him so on edge; on the other hand, it might equally be the whinging child…”